


Discord

by edgeanon, frick



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Absinthe, Butts, Cum everywhere, Dom/sub, Foot Jobs, M/M, Self-cest, Soul Sex, and its in various colors, licorice - Freeform, pez dispenser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5913412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgeanon/pseuds/edgeanon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/frick/pseuds/frick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>frisk tells asriel to go fuck himself so he does</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discord

**

Once more unto the breach.

Asriel opened his eyes. Black void. He experimentally tossed an orb of flame down the ‘room’ and watched it sputter out against a surface of nothingness.

Good. Nice and stable, sturdy enough to keep out any unwanted visitors. He took a few experimental steps before changing the color to a dark, pleasing purple, swirling around with nebulas of black.

It’s been more than a few nights since the Chara incident. This was the first night he’d attempted to come back here. He was a healthy distance away from Frisk, but he was still extremely apprehensive about the idea.

Another orb of flame, followed by a couple of comically large stars. Everything checked out.

He conjured the rest of the room with a mantra repeating that it’d be just him tonight, by himself. Apparently, it worked, albeit too well.

As soon as ‘worked’ ran through his head, a familiar ‘pop’ enunciated before him. Asriel’s dust pressure rose, fur standing at high alert. What now?

A tall silhouette broke a blob of purple, his anger simmering down to mere curiosity. That definitely wasn’t one of his siblings.

As the haze cleared, Asriel was able to confirm his suspicions. Standing in the clearing was another Asriel, though he had a nagging feeling that this wasn’t some clone created by his mind. True, their appearance was flawlessly identical, from their height, the shape and size of their horn, down to the intricate marks throughout their body. Even their robes were the same, in length and in color. It was all so familiar, but at the same time, it wasn’t.

Intrigued, Asriel kept a watchful eye on his uninvited guest as he approached. Now that he was within range, Asriel was able to isolate the subtle differences. For one, his aura was dimmer, signalling a more inexperienced mage. He basked in the knowledge that he would be able to get rid of him easily once he overstayed his welcome, but the fact that what appeared to be a copy would have a lower magic level tingled his curiosity.

Then there was the way he moved. He was overly careful, treading slowly, his eyes stalking his surroundings, ready to pounce the moment something stood out of line. And who could blame him? He probably knew about as much as Asriel as to why he was summoned here.

Well, clone or not, Asriel felt compelled to probe further. He wanted to learn more about this other him, where he came from and what possible secrets he could be hiding. A bit of self-exploration never hurt anyone.

“Howdy!” Asriel decided to muster as much friendliness as he could. “What brings, uh, me here?”

He immediately sensed the doppelganger welling up magic inside itself. How very, very curious. This definitely wasn’t just a clone. His personality was too… aggressive. Predatory, even. He responded in kind. Even with his lower energy, he was still a great deal more powerful than someone like Frisk. Asriel didn’t want to be caught off guard.

“Not much for talking, eh?” Edgy little shit. “That act is terribly boring. We’re in a dream, try to loosen up a little.”

Perhaps acting this open towards a seemingly hostile individual wasn’t the smartest decision. A fresh image of Chara pulsed through his mind.

On the other hand, if there was any semblance of the same Asriel in that demonic visage, it might mean they could have a little fun. He was not averse to the idea, particularly since Frisk hadn’t been open to anything in the past few days.

How would he dub this? “Advanced Masturbation”? He couldn’t help but chuckle at his perceived cleverness.

The figure across the room decided to speak up. “What is this place?” His tone was commanding. Asriel would be a bit peeved, if he wasn’t giggling to himself at his own jokes.

“Like I said, friend. A dream. I don’t know exactly what brought you here, but this,” he stretched out his arms and waved them around, “is all my creation. Just a little exercise I like to do while I’m sleeping. Helps keep the proverbial juices flowing.”

“How do I leave, then?”

Asriel gave out a smirk. “Well… When I wake up, presumably. But that won’t be for a while. You caught me just as I was starting, and, well, I’m trying to sleep off the remainder of Kraken I had with dinner.”

“...Kraken?”

“Rum. Wonderful stuff. You should try it sometime.” The familiar cringed. Asriel arched an eyebrow. “Take it you’re not a fan?”

“That kind of firewater is for the weak and dim-witted.”

“Man, you must be a blast at parties.”

That ambient magic circling the Other Asriel built up. Obviously, he wasn’t appreciating the banter. “If you won't let me leave, I’ll have to do it by force.”

Oh ho ho. By force. How adorably conceited of him. “Tell you what. I’ll make a deal.”

“I don’t make deals.” This guy was the biggest stick in the mud Asriel has met. And it’s him.

“Okay, how about a… ‘compromise’. You stay for a while, have a couple of drinks with me, we relax, chit chat, get to know each other, and you can go. Not every day I get to have some dialogue with myself.”

Silence. Neato.

“We can talk… about god stuff? Do you have a Frisk?” The name made him twitch a bit. Asriel took the reaction as an invitation and a violet table with some bottles and chairs popped up out of the ground.

He took a seat, and slowly but surely the doppelganger followed suit. Asriel took the silence as a sign that he should be the one to lead the conversation. “I take from your previous reaction that you’re not a fan of rum. Pick your poison.” He clanked two tall crystal glasses against the table.

After a few moments, the glasses slushed with a green fluid. Asriel predicted melon liqueur or something of that variety and he felt cheated. Frankly, he was expecting so much more from this edgelord.

He grabbed a glass and took a sniff. Smelt like liquorice. It was absinthe.

Didn’t seem like the type to chase the green fairy. Asriel shrugged and downed the glass in one swig. He was pleased to learn that the penchant for liquorice transcended timelines.

After he brought it back down, he registered a startled look on the Other Asriel’s face. Right. He’s probably a ‘smart drinker’. You don’t chug absinthe in front of a smart drinker.

He took it as a challenge. The clone took a long drag out of his glass, swallowed, and polished the rest off. Maybe lowered inhibitions would make him more fun to talk to.

And maybe something more. The absolute narcissism of fucking yourself in a very literal sense delighted Asriel. This is a kink he would hesitate to show even Frisk.

Right, Frisk. “So, I have this human. Wonderful guy. Saved me from a pretty specific definition of Hell, is very kind and loving, and will endure pretty much anything I can conceive in the bedroom.”

The other blushed the tiniest amount. My, my. Hit a soft spot, there. He tapped his glass and their drinks refilled. “He really enjoys weird stuff involving my tongue. Couple of other random kinks I’m sure you have,” Asriel took another swig before continuing. “...and then there’s the SOUL stuff I’ve started doing recently that’s absolutely divine.”

“...SOUL stuff?”

“Yeah. Turns out, that shit is really good for getting freaky. You can massage it, lick it, the whole nine yards, and it sends all of it through every nerve in the body.” Asriel leaned onto his knees, twirling a small amount of drink with his finger. “If you want, I could show you.”

The other figure tensed up. That may have been a bit too forward. Asriel took another swig for good measure.

Or not forward enough. Asriel suddenly appeared in front of the double and stabbed a finger into his chest. The magic shell he was channelling shattered almost instantly from the pressure.

Good. He didn’t know how to fight off magic. That made this about as harmless as a game with Frisk. With practiced ease, Asriel hooked his finger around a familiar place and pulled out a luminous white heart.

Oooh, the look on his face. He was not happy about his precious SOUL being handled this way.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Put. That. Back.” The rage in his voice almost made Asriel giggle. So demanding, this little lord.

“Oh, but I haven’t even gotten to the demonstration.” Asriel drove a clawed thumb into the SOUL and started rotating it in a circular pattern. “This might quell your protests.”

The response was phenomenal, alas predictable. A vivid image flashed of the first time he did this to Frisk. The body-double’s hostile, standoffish pose instantly dissipating as he slammed his head into the back of the chair, claws scraping against the armrests and a leg stretched taut out of his bulky robes. Measured pants filled the room.

Asriel slowly eased the pressure on the heart while staring at the not-prince. The pleasure to anger ratio slowly balanced out as he regained his senses. Asriel gave him a raised eyebrow and dramatically held his thumb above the SOUL threateningly. “Don’t you want to have a little fun? That felt good, right?”

Back to that hostile stance.

His smell betrayed him. Asriel quickly noticed he was positioning himself to hide the stirrings in his crotch. An all too familiar heady aroma entered the dreamscape. “Is that a yes, or…?”

“...I need another drink.”

Excellent. The sound of progress. Asriel walked back over to his seat with the SOUL in tow, a new spring to his step. Frisk’s diplomatic ways were rubbing off on him. How to get an aggressive, edgy clone to bend to your will in one easy step.

What was it he said? Give a little, take a lot? Something more than magic could be practiced here.

“If you’re not a fan, we could end this here.”

He caught the doppelganger mid drink. They let out a cough, wiping his mouth.

“We’ve had our chit chat and drinks. I could wake up.”

“...No. This is fine.”

Progress. Sweet, sweet progress. Asriel gave the heart a couple of tantalizing strokes with his thumb claw as he stood back up. The absinthe was definitely kicking in. He had now hit his experimental streak. How far could he take things with this mirror image, to what depraved steps of Hell could they reach?

Damn. This stuff is good. New favorite drink.

The twin was locked in pleasure once again, that overpowering smell of precum wafting out of his robe like a dirty secret. Asriel spied the unsightly blotch forming and put a paw directly on it.

That was… bigger than he was expecting. Certainly not his size. How curious. If he was rocking that, Frisk might not be able to walk afterwards.

He started wiggling his toes and grinding against the member through the cloth. “How does this make you feel?”

The response was a flurry of breaths and bucking in his seat. This guy was a little too easy. He gave his ankle a couple of twists before withdrawing his foot, nonchalantly rubbing it against the other’s robes.

“Where did all that confidence go? That urge to leave, that commanding aura… It’s almost as if you’ve never done this before.” Asriel sounded so smug it almost made him want to punch himself. Almost. “Could it be that this little Asriel is a virgin?”

“No!” Ooh, that tone. So desperate it was bordering on adorable. “I have my own Frisk, and my own fantasies. This is just-” Asriel gave the SOUL another poke. “Hgh… A new position for me.”

He’s a top. That would explain so much.

“So, your Frisk is a girl, then?”

“...Yes.”

His timeline was becoming more and more intriguing by the second. Loaded like a Pringles can, controlling to the point of absurdity, and being very susceptible to… domination seemed like an understatement, but he was definitely enjoying the ministrations Asriel was putting him through.

Could probably make him release in his chair with minimal effort. That would be amusing, but a quick end to the night. Asriel had some far more interesting ideas he wanted to put on the table, figuratively and literally.

He swiped the glasses off the table with a small burst of magic. The wrong direction. The mystical absinthe they were sipping on throughout the evening spilled, coating the violet, crystal-like surface with a sticky green sheen. It’d have to do.

Asriel walked over to the clone and shoved the SOUL back into his chest, before dragging him up. “Well, since you’re new to this, I’m gonna introduce you to something Frisk probably hasn’t.”

Before the double could question his intentions, Asriel summoned a tiny, knifelike Chaos Sabre and tore out the back of his robe.

“What are you doing?!”

“Well, you don’t exactly have a vagina, so-”

“Couldn’t we just keep doing the SOUL... thing? That would suffice.”

Apprehension. He was getting cuter by the second. “You weren’t open to the SOUL thing when I started, and you enjoyed it. What’s to say this would be any different?” Asriel noticed his own tent forming at the prospect. The musk clinging to the abyss grew thicker.

“...Fine.”

Asriel was giddy with the concept of telling Frisk about this. It’s not considered cheating if you’re fucking yourself, right?

And in a dream.

That’d have to be enough. This was going to be amazing. He’ll be so proud of him. Those negotiation lessons were really starting to pay off.

Asriel conjured some lube to add to the healthy amount of precum staining his robe and slathered it on, while willing his robe open. This was quite the sight, bending himself over a table, about to fuck himself in the ass.

At least he knew what spots to hit. Presumably.

Asriel waited a few agonizing seconds before ramming into the mirror image’s rear. A fantasy beyond fantasies. Loud, lewd smacks and the sound of cloth scraping against wet crystal filled the chamber. The spilled absinthe was disturbed enough to send its smells up through the assault of musk filling the air, adding a tinge of liquorice.

He continued, thrusting while sending hands tracing up and down Other Asriel’s thighs, pushing one thumb against the base of his tail to give himself leverage, and a healthy grasp on one of his ass cheeks.

The clone adjusted his hips and tried to reach his own throbbing member. Asriel didn’t think about that. This might be a little too much after the stimulation from the SOUL exercise.

That wouldn’t do. He tried to remember the spell Frisk used a couple of months back. If he focused it right here… Yeah, that should work. He kept thrusting, chuckling to himself as the lesser continued to rub his shaft. Asriel grabbed one of his horns and jerked his head back.

“Still trying to be assertive? That’s cute, but you need to know when to stop.” He leaned closer, his maw against the Other Asriel’s ear. His tone lowered an octave. “You’re not in control. Even that belongs to me.”

Asriel noticed the other quivering. He couldn’t tell if it was from rage or rejected release, but it was glorious. A thought quickly burned through his intoxicated mind. Another liquor-fuelled experiment. Asriel moved both of his hands to the maw of the clone, pulling back his lips and dragging digits across his fangs and drenching his index finger with a well of saliva near the back of his throat.

He shifted his left hand, gripping the doppelganger’s snout in a grip, warm breath permeating his fur. He withdrew his other hand, sniffing the glaze before licking it with an exaggerated drag of his tongue.

Of course it tasted like liquorice. Asriel shook the excess spittle off of his hand and renewed his efforts, feeling a tingle through his groin as he started to give way to the sensations.

While he was sampling his bodily fluids, he might as well try the whole deal. Asriel grabbed one of the crystal chalices from their earlier escapades, drained the small amount of absinthe still in the glass, and cupped it under Other Asriel’s twitching quarterstaff, letting go of his magical vice on the other’s manhood. The seed sputtered into the cup with force, a frothy void-like fluid quickly consuming the glass.

Pitch black. Because why not. Everything else was black. If it smelled of liquorice as well Asriel was going to pour it over the other’s head. Variety is the spice of life.

Asriel let out a couple of muted pants before his own sensations claimed him, his own otherworldly essence slathering the inside of the double’s ass before he could pull out, sending streaks across the table and the clone’s back.

His cock continued to twitch as it lost its definition. Asriel let out a few more pants before collecting himself. He looked down curiously and surveyed the mess they had made.

There was a delicious irony to the scene. Black sheen with technicolor streaks blending into it like an oil spill. It was like painting with degenerate fluids. Other Asriel regained himself enough to reach onto his back and gather some of Asriel’s batter between his fingers as he lifted himself off of the table-made-canvas.

“...Rainbow? Really?”

Asriel realized he was still holding the chalice in his left hand. He offered it to the clone’s view. “It’s a little more creative than this.” He pulled it back and gave it an apprehensive smell. “And it smells like absinthe. Really? Couldn’t you have chosen… chocolate, or something?”

“Chocolate.”

“Better out that end than the other.”

Other Asriel took his own experimental whiff. “You’re one to talk. What is this even? Starburst? Skittles...? Are you a pez dispenser?”

“Liquorice up top, an accent on bottom. I don’t see the problem here.”

The clone did a very familiar eyeroll before propping himself up against the table. Asriel had to contain his laughter at the sight of his ass hanging out due to the impromptu hole he had made in the heat of the moment. “Are we done here, then?”

Asriel strolled back over to his seat and flopped into it. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. We just shared a magical moment. Bask in the afterglow.” He twirled his fingers as a little beam of light shot out and broke the ambient darkness in the room. “Here. In case you want to do this again.”

“Is that... a collar?”

He lifted the conjuration to his eyes for closer examination. The band of light quickly solidified into a thin, black material. “Well, it’s just a theory, but… If you have something from this realm, it should tie you to it. So if you ever wanna have more fun, you can come back easily. It’s good to mix things up once in a while.” Asriel traced a finger across the rim of the collar. Gentle persuasion was his forte after all. “Gives you a new appreciation for the other side of ass-ramming when you know what’s going on.”

“You don’t have anything but a collar?”

“You aren’t getting the theme of the night, are you, little lord?”

Asriel made himself imposing. The room flickered in sympathy with his voice. “You’re not the one in control. You’re mine.” Very impressive. Perhaps the other’s edginess was rubbing off on him. He followed the comment with a weak cough. “Just put it on.”

The collar floated over to the twin, a very obvious hesitation wracking his body as he slowly brought it up to his neck.

Gotcha. The band latched onto his throat, seeping into his fur. The only visible parts after it had nestled in was a thin black line. “That should only be visible in proximity to me. And when you’re thinking about me.” Isn’t that sweet. “Just think about it before you go to sleep, maybe something magical will happen.”

The self-hatred in the clone’s voice made Asriel giddy. “But if you’re me… wouldn’t it just be visible all the time?”

“Well, you just gained a very horny tattoo, then.” Asriel brought his hands together. “I’m sure it’s fine. Very rarely wrong about this sort of thing.” Or too drunk to remember what his hypotheses were to begin with.

Silence blanketed the void for the first time since this hellish night started. “So.”

“Right, waking you up. Hmm.” Asriel tapped his chin and looked up contemplatively.

“I thought you said you waking up would kick us both out.”

“Might. Or you’ll sit here, next to a table of your own sins until I pass back out. I think I should be the one to hit the lights.”

There was a groan of disapproval. That was close enough to an “okay” for Asriel. If the SOUL prodding and the foul table act didn’t wake him up, he’d have to go for something a bit more… out there. Asriel closed his eyes and summoned forth his ethereal fluids.

The spattering against the not-floor was comical enough to almost bring him out of the moment. Asriel couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

“U-uhm…”

Asriel afforded himself an open eye and watched as the starry fluid slithered towards the clone. With a quick command, two tentacles shot out of the puddle, gripping Other Asriel by his ankles.

He walked towards the scene with a creepy slowness, more and more liquid building up. The reinforcement added girth to the existing tendrils. Tight pants echoed over the absurd noises Asriel was making.

That should be enough. Asriel shut his mouth and grinned, admiring his own handiwork. A lake of depravity licked at the doppelganger’s feet, his torn robe being defiled further by the twilight ooze.

Asriel had to finish this before he lost his concentration from laughter. This was too over the top. He approached the restrained boss monster, taking care not to get the mess onto his own clothing, and brought a hand to the double’s chest.

The SOUL came out so readily this time. Asriel gave it a few emphatic squeezes, mimicking a heartbeat. Heavy gasps rang out. He lowered the soul closer to the slaked floor, the glow of the SOUL bouncing off of it like the sun.

Asriel dipped the heart in, like he was scooping out salsa on a chip. The action sent the other into a fit, finally dragging out a flurry of lewd bleats. Asriel repeated the motion a few times, smelling a renewed wave of musk pierce the stale air. One more, and-

Pop. The tentacles sloughed off into nothingness almost instantly. The heart Asriel was holding winked out.

Huh.

He looked around at the mess the night made. Thank God this was a dream. This was turgid even for Asriel’s tastes.

Absinthe is one hell of a drink.


End file.
